Chapter 22
KANE
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I press my back against the door, the solid weight of it anchoring the anger that threatens to fly across the room at Amy. Strewn all over the floor are the shredded remnants of the books and pamphlets I gave her, the confetti trail making a mockery of my concessionary gesture.
I told you so, I imagine Nolene whispering.
It’s not the waste which gets to me, it’s the absolute contempt Amy is displaying right now. I’ve given up so much, risking even imprisonment, for the sake of my convictions. And here she is, effectively spitting in my face.
It’s several minutes before I trust myself to push off the door and walk through the mess to stand in front of her. Amy is sitting on the bed, legs dangling over the edge, a casual stance that doesn’t quite hide the fear stamped all over her face.
“The lab animals in those books deserved a hearing,” I tell her. “You should’ve given them the courtesy of reading about their wasted lives, their lonely deaths.”
“I can explain,” she begins, fumbling for the words.
“Don’t,” I growl. I haul her to her feet, her face so close I glimpse the widening of her pupils. I thrust her away from me. “Clean it up.”
Amy obeys without complaint, as if realizing she’s pushed me too far. I lean against the wall, my arms folded, watching in silence while she picks up every bit of paper.
“You missed some under the bed,” I point out.
Oh, she wants to say something. I see it spark across her face. My stomach tightens in anticipation, almost hoping she’ll give in to the urge because I’m itching for a fight. But she grits her teeth and crawls under the bed to retrieve the paper.
As soon as she’s finished, I grab her arm and tow her out of the room.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Another cage waiting for me?” she asks bitterly, straining away from me, making me work to move her.
I yank irritably on her arm. “That lesson was for your father. This one will be just for you.”
I propel her down the stairs and into my client’s entertainment room. I watch her take in the windowless surroundings, the corner sofa, the screen dominating one wall, the projector suspended from the ceiling. I watch her body sag with relief at the absence of syringes and steel cages.
I point to the couch. “Sit.” She sits. “I’m coming back in five minutes. If you move from this position, I won’t be held responsible for the consequences.”
Locking the door behind me, I quickly fetch what I need. When I return, she’s still sitting there, worry and confusion scrambling across her face.
I position a straight-backed chair in front of the couch, facing the screen.
Approaching Amy, I withdraw the rope I concealed in a bag.
I manage to loop one of her wrists before realization strikes.
She cries out, struggling wildly. My anger, however, overrides her desperation, but it still takes me awhile to tie her arms behind the back of the chair and to bind her feet to its legs.
“What are you going to do to me?” she asks, breathing like she can’t get enough air into her lungs.
I don’t bother answering her, my forearms stinging from the nasty scratches she’s carved into my skin. I underestimated how hard she’d fight back.
“I’m sorry!” she shouts. “I’m sorry I tore up your precious books.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it right now.”
“You kidnapped me,” she says. “You’re the one in the wrong here.”
“And two wrongs get us to where we are now.”
“Come on, Kane,” she appeals, squirming against the restraints of the rope. “Let me go. You don’t want to do this.”
If I wasn’t so mad, I’d smile at the deliberate use of my name, like we’re old friends. “You’re an expert on what I want now? Pity you weren’t earlier.”
Amy bites her lip, looking up at me with big blue eyes. Even in her disheveled state, the delicate symmetry of her features radiates a frail and breathtaking attractiveness. But I can’t allow her beauty to soften me.
I say flatly, “You’re getting treated to a slide show.”
Amy raises her chin. It’s absurdly easy for me to read the thought that blazes like a neon-lit sign in the tilt of that pretty head. I hunker down in front of her. “If you close your eyes, I’ll simply start the slide show from the beginning.”
For an instant, it seems she’ll plead her case some more, but she presses her lips mutinously together.
As I set up my laptop, there’s a moment where doubt creeps in, where I question just how far over the line I’m leaping here. She deserves this, I reason. So far she’s displayed no redeeming qualities.
What about you? whispers a little voice in my head. What qualities have you shown so far?
I shake off the voice. Amy’s cushioned life has been heading toward a hard lesson and it falls to me to administer it. Dismissing any lingering qualms, I click on the first photo.